AN: You've been waiting. I've been waiting. It's time.

Chapter Twenty-Eight: WWGD?

6:53 pm. ON "MY" WAY TO "MY" NOT-SO-DATE-ANYMORE WITH HERMIONE. "I" HATE "MY" LIFE.

Let me tell you something: it is hard to walk like a woman! My cool, keen swagger doesn't work! It doesn't cut it! I had to practically walk on tiptoe and swing my ass just to stay upright! I hate having curves, I hate having creepy old toothless men smooch at me!

How disturbing.

AND BOOBS. Boobs! I HAD BOOBS. I wasn't sure whether to be excited or disgusted. (Not that Ginny's are big or anything, I'd never realized how unreasonably sporty they were until they were affixed to me.)

I shivered, despite how unreasonably nice it was outside, and headed toward my destination.

"Oi, sweetheart!" a voice cooed.

I turned around.

"Ginerva? That you?" asked a short man with a beaming, stupid smile.

"Michael Corner?" I asked, squinting. Oh good Tom Riddle and His Python Prophets. How I hated that asshole. Back in school, he used to start fights during mealtimes with mashed potatoes and oatmeal.

"Yeah, it's me. Looking good, darling."

"Can't say the same for you," I shrugged. It was true. I'm sorry, but like George said, I haven't taken acting skills! I am a heterosexual man and I can still tell who's ugly and who isn't. And Michael Corner was definitely not someone Ginny Weasley should be accosted by!

He looked puzzled. "Look, I know the break-up was hard on you—"

"No it wasn't!" I retorted.

Corner made a face. "Since I dropped out of Hogwarts, I've had a lot of new realizations. I was immature—"

"You're telling me! Stupid, too!"

"I can make it up to you!" he declared, almost angrily. "What do you say me and you just spring over to the nearest pub and—"

I folded my arms. "You're an ugly, mindless bastard. Is your father a rhino? Is your mother a Muggle? Your type makes me sick. How did you ever get that hot Asian?"

"Huh? Who, Cho? Hot Asian? Ginny, what are you talking about?"

"Oh, come on, Corner, everyone thought you'd drugged Chang when you started dating her. I mean, she's a prize, mate. You're kind of… little and weird," I shrugged.

Corner was in shock. "You dyke. You foul bitch!" he spat.

"Ginny Weasley is neither a dyke, nor a bitch," I announced hotly, and then did something only for the sake of staying in character: I kneed Michael Corner directly in the groin and watched him crumple to the dirt.

(Now, I know this is a very un-brotherly thing to do, and men will criticize me for the rest of my life, but Michael Corner used to have food fights with mashed potatoes and oatmeal! And that is just plain stupid.)

Percy's quip had come true: Ginvera Weasley was now the Secret Weapon.

I smiled to myself. "What would Ginny do?" I asked, then stepped over Michael Corner and continued on down the lane.

"Ginny? Gin?"

I kept walking, and then when the yelling repeated, I looked around, wondering where Ron's sister was.

"GIN-NY!" Someone grabbed my shoulder.

I whipped around. "Oh! Hello, Hermione!" (Silly me, I forgot I was being someone else.)

"What's your problem? I've been calling you forever!" Hermione grinned, looking gorgeous. Completely gorgeous. It seemed she dressed up, in a navy blue sweater, fitting skirt and hoes. Matching heels were on her feet, and her hair was pulled back.

I must've stared for more than what is deemed appropriate, because she looked at me in an odd way.

"Uh—" I struggled. "You look very—uhm—cuuuute!" I exclaimed, drawing out the last word in a high tone of voice.

"Ginny, are you okay?" Hermione asked softly.

"Yes! I'm fine!" I snapped. "Are you?"

It was about then that I realized I'd hardly hung out with Ginny Weasley. At all. This made it very difficult to be her. For all I knew, she was in love with Michael Corner and she have never commented on Hermione looking nice, and she wore cobat boots, made obscure paintings of strangers she met on the streets, and had aspirations to be a waitress in Hoboken. What would Ginny do, damn it?

Hermione sighed. "Well, I'm actually looking for your brother."

"I know," I said rigidly.

"What do you mean you know?" Hermione narrowed those deep brown eyes in a sort of scary way.

I hadn't thought clearly about this part.

"He—sort of sent me here," I told her slowly.

"Why?"

"Look! This is getting awkward! Why don't we just go into the restaurant, and have a nice dinner, and then when we're finished, we can go back to your place and you can tell me all about the blokes you like! And we can gab and take a shower together and-"

"What?" Hermione declared, wide-eyed.

"Er, except not the last." Damn it.

"Are you telling me that Ronald sent you here in his place?"

"Not exactly."

"You don't need to protect him, Ginny. If he sent you here, then it's his fault but you have to tell me!"

I looked from side to side. "I don't know, Hermione!"

"What don't you know?" She was getting impatient. She did not like Weird-Almost-Possessed-Ginny, I could tell!

"Hermione, Ron is nice, but he is not good with the ladies, like some guys are. In fact, he's terrible! So terrible that he sent me, his little sister, to come here and tell you that it just isn't going to work." I shrugged.

"What just isn't going to work?"

"He says uhm… that… you are too much of a feminist for his liking!"

"A what?"

"Er—he doesn't like the fact that you knit sweaters for elves."

Hermione stared. "Ginny, it's like you aren't even yourself today."

"I am myself! I am very Ginny! Can't you tell?"

"Not really. You seem like someone else I know, though I can't put my finger on it. Anyway, just tell me when Ron's getting here."

'He's not. He's a bit tied up at the moment, and he can't see you."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "This is a prank of the twins' isn't it? I'm supposed to think Ron's breaking up with me, and then, funny ha ha! Goodness, Ginny, how foul of you to play along!"

"Hermione," I pleaded. "It's not really a prank!"

"What?"

"Ron isn't coming."

"He isn't." Hermione looked abashed. "He isn't? Well, what's wrong with him? He doesn't really think I'm mad at him, does he?"

"Hermione, it's all right! Wouldn't you rather be friends with him?"

"Ginny, you were our biggest supporter! What happened to you? What happened to Ron? Why doesn't he tell me? How stupid of him to send you! I knew he was a prat, but this is just ridiculous, I can't believe he would stand me up and make you come in his place, don't you feel sick to your stomach about the whole ordeal, because I certainly do!"

"I—"

"Oh, you poor thing, him making you go and do this, and I know how shy you are, you must almost be in tears, well, two can play this game, even three, come on, Ginny!"

And with that, I was taken by the hand, and dragged far, far away, as Hermione bantered about all sorts of negative memories concerning Ronald.

I was forced to apparate (beginning to feel like a prisoner), and we appeared at Grimmault Place, Hermione and Percy's apartment. She dragged me through the door.

"Back so soon?" inquired Percy, who was sitting at the dining room table, reading the newspaper with some very large glasses. "Oh! 'Lo, Ginny!"

"Hi," I said dejectedly, and Percy raised his eyebrows.

"Hermione—" he began, as I tried to gesture at him to shut up.

"Are you in on this, too, then? Come out with it, Percy? Are you all his secret spies? You were the whole time weren't you? WEREN'T YOU?"

Percy jumped out of his chair instantly. "Hermione! How could you accuse me of being Lord Voldemort's spy? You know I was forced to work for Crouch! You know that!" he screamed.

"Don't be daft, Percy! I wasn't talking about Voldemort! I mean Ron!"

"Yes, it's much more important than Voldemort!" I affirmed.

Hermione looked doubtful, but glad I was finally being supportive.

"Ron's spy? What in the Shrieking Shack are you talking about?"

"You knew Ron was going to break up with me!"

Percy's face softened. "What? No—I didn't—Hermione, I'm not his spy. I had no idea. When-?"

Hermione looked deadly. "Just an hour ago. He sent Ginny to do it for him."

"I'm always the last in this family to know things!" Percy snapped. "Where is Ron? I'll shake some sense into him!"

(Oh no. I think I started the Weasley Family Ruckus.)

"Percy, violence isn't the key idea here—"

"Oh, believe me, I dabble in doings so much more malicious than violence," Percy returned, and Hermione nodded.

It was apparent then why Hermione and Percy had roomed together. They were equally matched in Bookish Insanity.

"Okay, I think we need to be calm," I said, putting up my hands. (If Ron was murdered, I did not want Draco or Ginny to be blamed. But mostly Draco, of course.)

"Since when? Since when have you been calm about something?" Hermione snapped.

I opened my eyes very wide. "I—derno—I…" All of a sudden, I began to jump up and down. "Ron's evil! It's all his fault! ALL HIS FAULT!"

"Women! Please!" Percy declared. "Ron must be feeling insecure. He loves you, Hermione. Have you asked him about it?"

"Not a good idea!" I said quickly. "Let him wait! Make him feel bad!"

"Percy's right, Gin. Maybe Ron just had cold feet. He does have his mood swings," Hermione stated. "It's the logical thing to do."

"No, it isn't!" I cried out. "Ron doesn't deserve you, Hermione!"

Percy stared at Ginny!me in silence.

Hermione gawked. "Well, thank you, I think, but this just really doesn't seem like Ron—"

"Malfoy hasn't spoken to you, has he Ginny?" Percy asked, observing one of his nails very casually.

I blinked. "Malfoy? Who's Malfoy?"

"Why would Malfoy be speaking to Ginny?" Hermione wanted to know.

"Yeah. Why?" I asked snappishly, shooting a dagger glare at Percy.

"No reason," Percy shrugged, but narrowed his eyes at me strangely. "You know, an unrelated matter, but Hermione, you should just talk to Ron. At least owl him."

"All right," she said firmly. "I will."

-One Hour Later-

"He's never taken this long, save for the time he fell into the bathtub and couldn't get free."

"What a stupid prat," I said. I was beginning to think I needed to get out of there before something insane happened.

"Most definitely," Hermione nodded.

'Funny. When I'm Draco, I can't insult anyone, or else everyone gets offended… But as Ginny…' There were high points, I suppose.

Percy was bored with the whole bashing-of-Ron ordeal by now and was attempting to be polite. And in Percy's world, this meant making a pot of tea and serving biscuits. "Hermione, I am certain Ron is off somewhere, and he's just not getting your mail! He does leave the house."

"Not really," scoffed Hermione. 'Well, maybe to get the newspaper. I just don't understand," she muttered to herself.

"Ginny," Percy whispered into my ear," create some sort of distraction."

"Huh?"

"Yeah, you're good at that."

Hermione turned around. "Are you whispering about me?"

"No!" Percy snapped insistently, and stared at me.

'What? A distraction?'

Percy cleared his throat, giving Ginny!me the evil eye. "So, Ginny told me that the other day, she saw Dean Thomas."

"Oh, really?" Hermione asked. "How was he, Gin?"

"Erm—good, really good. He's…" I struggled. 'Ginny. Dean? Wasn't Dean in my year? Wasn't he stupid? I can't place him. Did Ginny even know him?' "He's… really good," I affirmed, nodding brightly. "He sends you his best, of course."

"Me?" Hermione asked. "What did he say?"

"Oh, you know. Things!" I shrugged, blushing. "You know, he was on hols with his Dad and he was just passing through—"

Hermione looked bewildered. "His dad?"

"Yes," I nodded, with a smile. "Nice fellow, really."

"Ginny. Are you sure?"

"Why!"

"Well, if I remember clearly," Hermione continued, looking more than a little concerned," Dean's father is dead."

"Ohhhhhh," I said quietly, staring at both of them in horror. "Well. It's nice, isn't it, that he came back alive!"

Hermione and Percy made eye contact.

"You didn't mention all this the other day," Percy said. "Undead fathers and all, I would have asked you more questions." He laughed in a discomforted fashion. "But, anyhow, tell Hermione what Dean asked you." He grinned at Hermione. "Mum'd really be furious if she knew!"

I bit my lip. "Oh that." 'What could it be? What would he ask? Mrs. Weasley, think, THINK! What would set her off?'

"Oh, come out with it!" Hermione declared. "I promise I won't tell!"

'What do girls get excited about? What would Dean ask Ginny to do that's exciting and would make Mrs. Weasley mad?'

I let out a sigh. "All right, if you need to know so badly! He… he asked me to marry him."

Percy dropped his teacup and it shattered on the floor. "HE DID WHAT?"

Hermione flicked her wand calmly at the floor, cleaning up the glass. "Percy, don't get so excited. Now, Ginny, what exactly did he say? And you're really not considering it, are you?"

But Percy was in a state of unrecoverable brother fury. He was reddening by the second. "HE DID WHAT? YOU DIDN'T MENTION—HE—I SWEAR—"

"PERCY! STOP!" I shrieked madly. "It's not that important!"

"IT BLOODY WELL IS IMPORTANT, GINERVA MALLORY, AND—"

"Get your Mum furious, you said?" Hermione asked lightly. "Percy, this is better to be dealt with in a calm manner. Now, Ginny, what did you say?"

"I… er… I said nothing of course—"

"YOU BETTER HAVE! AND DON'T SPEAK TO HIM!" Percy shouted. "EVER!" He pounded his fist on the couch. "Blast him! And to think he invited you to have a holiday this summer, too, now you're really not going!"

I opened my mouth in surprise. "That was-? It-?"

"Can't believe you didn't fill me it," Percy declared, "I swear to Godric, my blood pressure's naught gone up so high in ages—"

Hermione shrugged. "She's growing up, and Dean did fancy her. You have to give yourself time, Ginny, it's all right. When the time comes, you can have a meaningful adult relationship and—" she stopped talking. "Well, look at me. Giving relationship advice, and my boyfriend's gone and dumped me, that's rich." She sighed and shook her head.

"Hermione—" Percy began, but at that moment, a black owl came rushing into the room through the fireplace.

"Post!" she cheered, but stared as the bird dropped a letter in my lap. "Oh… it's for you," she said glumly, and I stared curiously at it. Not a second later, a large snowy owl sailed in through the kitchen window with a letter for her. "That's odd!" she declared, but worked on opening hers.

On my envelope were words in very tiny handwriting that read: SAY YOU HAVE TO GO TO BATHROOM! READ!

"Eh—I'll be right back!" I said, and jumped up, almost running into the wall. I looked down the hallway—there were four doors. I opened the first one and was dismayed to find what appeared to be a study. "Uhm—sorry, but… the bathroom…?" I questioned.

Percy and Hermione looked at me, a bit disturbed.

"Gin—" Hermione said, worriedly. "It's the second door to the left!"

"Right!" I nodded, and ran in at once. I tore open the letter.

How's it going, chap?

Enjoying those feminine assets?

Hope you've convinced Hermiekins because you've got exactly ten minutes before the potion wears off.

Thought we'd warn you!

(Oh, and you can thank us when you get back.)

Love,

Gred. Forge. Agent Zoe. And Won Won, though disagreeably!

I gave a sigh at once. I was leaving. No more awkward stuttering and talk of Dean and his father—I hoped that would turn out not being too weird for everyone, I mean, mistakes happen, right?

But ten minutes. I hadn't even had time to… well…

I gave a smarmy smirk.

Fully inspect.

It would have to be quick. I faced the mirror. Ginny was good-looking, not terribly so, but still, it was worth a look. I slowly pulled my top off over my head and stared at her chest. I slowly ran my fingers over the crease in her cleavage. Next, I made to unhook my jeans—

"Decent?" came Percy's voice from the door.

"NO!" I said instantly, and whipped around, quickly trying to put my shirt back on.

The door swung open, and Percy walked in at once, locking it with a snap behind him. "Thought not," he said, with a look of contempt.

"This is inappropriate, twenty times over!" I said in a screech, trying to get my shirt on, but it was stuck over my elbows.

"HA!" he snorted, "you're telling me!" He wrenched the shirt over me and shook his head, lowering his voice. "Malfoy, honestly, you've stooped lower than low!"

"How did you know!" I exclaimed.

"Oh, there were certain clues, I suppose. Dean, your reactions to everything, not knowing where the bathroom is, I mean, my sister never LEAVES the bathroom! She's always in here ANGSTING!" he fired back.

"Well, look here, it wasn't really my idea, it was your brothers!"

Percy made a face, something I couldn't interpret. "They told you to do this?"

"Basically, yeah. It was a good idea!" I said with a shrug.

"Yes and no," he said bitterly," you've broken at least three ministry laws, not to mention my little sister is underage and you were probably just groping her!"

"ME! I WAS GROPING ME!" I shouted.

"What-ever," Percy spat. "The point is, you're a nasty little weasel, bad but brilliant, and Hermione's just not going to go for it! I mean, Polyjuice Potion, Ron breaking up with her? You've made this game a very dirty one, and I'm sorry I ever played it."

"Percy, it's not like that—"

"TELL ME HOW IT'S LIKE!"

"I really want to date her! And I didn't mean to become your sister—I was supposed to be Ron, but I got the wrong hair! She cut his hair and I didn't want to be a woman, but I had breasts, and I only wanted to feel them, I don't see what's wrong with it, it wasn't Ron's hair!" I said dejectedly.

Percy tried to hold back a grin. "You were trying to impersonate Ron and ending up being Ginny? Why, that's almost humorous."

"ALMOST," I said bitterly.

"Look Malfoy, I guess I admire your lack of self control. It's something I've never had, and you're so devoted to poor Hermione that I suppose I believe your efforts should be rewarded, but…" He shook his head. "Polyjuice Potion isn't fair. Promise me you'll never use it again?" He stuck out a hand.

I shook it. "I think I can promise that. I think."

"Oh, you're just the most adorable wee sister," Percy said sappily, and hugged me around the shoulder.

"UGH! I have to get going, but thanks… for understanding, I guess."

"You're very welcome," Percy smiled.

We walked out of the bathroom and stopped instantly.

Hermione was staring at her letter with a shocked expression.

"Well, what is it?" Percy asked. "What did Ron have to say for himself?"

"It wasn't Ron," she answered, looking up at us. "It was Draco Malfoy. He's invited me to have dinner with him tomorrow evening."

Percy made an effort not to look at me.

"Draco Malfoy?" I repeated. 'The twins?' I wondered. 'Had they written it?'

"Yes," Hermione nodded. "He says here if I accept, he'll pick me up and buy me dinner at Rolina's." She was baffled, clearly. "How does he know that's my favourite?"

Percy shrugged. "Don't know, Hermione. What do you think?"

She put the letter down firmly and smiled with a brave face. "I think I need to be adventurous. And Ron is everything but," she said boldly. "I'm going."